


said the spider to the spiral

by SarcasticSargassum



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Canon Non-Binary Character, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Other, Retro, Season/Series 05, Set in S5, Spoilers, Teasing, Tenderness, but also like. u know whats going down, discussions of 100 gecs, glitchcore, it's all for the Aesthetic, its MY comfort character and I get to choose the pronouns, monster kisses :3, or as close as you can get in the eyepocalypse, slight ooc shut up let me live, they/them pronouns for Helen, vintage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:54:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25471201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SarcasticSargassum/pseuds/SarcasticSargassum
Summary: “Your aesthetic?” Helen’s voice echoes with the hints of their laugh, teasing with a too-wide smile. “Miss Annabelle Cane, are you telling me that you’ve twisted your whole masterplan around vintage?”
Relationships: Annabelle Cane & Helen | The Distortion, Annabelle Cane/Helen | The Distortion
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	said the spider to the spiral

“Goodbye.” Annabelle hangs up the old phone. A few spiders scurry from her hand as she sets the handset down and turns around- only to realize that the door she’d entered through is now different. “Helen, if you’re trying to draw me in, I hope you realize it won’t work.”

“Awww, I’m just trying to say hello!” The door creaks open, thankfully away from the cramped interior of the phone booth. Helen leans against the doorframe, sighing with an overexaggerated pout. “I would never. I know you’re too smart for that, dear.” They stretch out a hand to cradle Annabelle’s face, and she lets them with a smile.

“Flattery won’t work either. How did you even find me, anyways?” She gestures at the cobweb-covered land around them, writhing shapes trapped under hundreds of layers of web. 

“Hmm… yes, I suppose that is a good question.”

“Are you going to answer it?”

“I don’t think so.” Helen laughs as Annabelle pokes their chest. “Really, darling, what did you expect?” 

Annabelle rolls her eyes fondly, letting Helen pull her close in a strange, staticky embrace. “Fair, fair.” They hold her for a little longer, humming a tune that neither of them recognize. Despite the sharp edges that form them, Helen never cuts Annabelle. She can feel the intent thrumming under their skin like a technicolor current, focusing with all their might.

“So… why the Nokias?” Annabelle feels the question as much as she hears it, rippling through her skin to sit in her bones.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s the end of the world. There’s cellphones scattered everywhere, and you could call dear Martin on any of them, but you always pick the oldest technology you can find. What’s stopping you talking to him on something made after 1999?” 

Annabelle flushes, twisting her hands a little tighter in Helen’s blazer. “It’s… it’s nothing. No reason.”

“Ah, ah, ah.” Helen shakes their head, tilting Annabelle’s chin up with a bladelike finger. “I, of all not-people, know when someone is lying. What is it?”

“Well, it’s-” Annabelle tries to look away, but something in Helen’s spiraling irises holds her in place. “They fit my aesthetic,” she grumbles, hoping they won’t press.

She’s never been that lucky.

“Your aesthetic?” Helen’s voice echoes with the hints of their laugh, teasing with a too-wide smile. “Miss Annabelle Cane, are you telling me that you’ve twisted your whole masterplan around  _ vintage _ ?”

“What’s wrong with that?” Annabelle rolls her eyes, shrugging off Helen’s outstretched arm. She can  _ feel _ their grin. “Besides, it doesn’t hurt to have a theme.”

“A theme for your apocalypse,” Helen muses, tapping one long finger against their chin. “Maybe I should get on that. Before all this, there was something the kids were calling… glitchcore? Very inspired, I must say.”

“If you start playing 100 gecs in your corridors, I’m never talking to you again.” 

“What’s 100 gecs?” 

“It’s…” Annabelle chuckles, placing her hands on Helen’s waist and pulling them together. “Nevermind. Something for another time, I suppose.”

“Alright.” Helen leans down for a kiss, and Annabelle’s lips curl upwards as the familiar rush of unidentifiable sensation flows through her. “We have all the time in the world.”

**Author's Note:**

> I just think it's really funny that Annabelle is keeping up The Aesthetic even after the literal apocalypse. Retro queen.  
> This was really fun to write! I adore both Helen and Annabelle, so writing their hypothetical dynamic is a real treat. I'm in the middle of writing WAY more TMA fics, but I wanted this to be the first fic-line I cast out into the fandom.
> 
> If you enjoyed this, feel free to check out my tumblr (genderlessgeek.tumblr.com) and the rest of my fics!  
> Leave a comment or kudos and have a wonderful morning/afternoon/night!


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